September 16, 2018: I can hardly believe that I am going to Rwanda. For many young Africans, particularly for those who aim to be leaders in Africa, Rwanda has become a model for development and leadership. When I arrived at the airport around 1:30 am and after getting my luggage, I noted that a police officer was looking at me very strangely. Without understanding why, I just took my bags and started moving toward the exit door.

At that time, he walked toward me and with the smile he gave me a scissor. The scene looked strange for me but in a minute, I understood the scissor is to cut the plastic that surrounded my bag as a protection. Yes, here, said the police officer, we are not allowed to touch the plastic. Before coming, I had read that Rwanda government has banned the use of plastic over the entire territory. But I did not realize until that moment that it was not a joke.

In the car going to the hotel, where I would spend a month during the PST, I discovered Rwanda for the very first time. At night there was almost nobody in the streets, except some guards here and there. My first impression: these streets are really very clean—I was wondering if people even live here! Yes indeed, I would understand later that I was actually in the cleanest city in Africa, and probably one of the most organized, too. Over the next month, I discovered very quickly that even if I was still in Africa, Rwanda is very different from Senegal. The streets are very clean, the air is pure, and people are respectful of the environment and established rules of life.

Two weeks after my arrival, on September 29, I discovered a name that would stay with me throughout all my stay: "umuganda.” Held on the last Saturday of each month, the umuganda is the day that is devoted to general interest works. Ministers, deputies, even the president is not exempt. All able-bodied people living in Rwanda must participate in this day of cleaning, maintenance of any kind for the benefit of public buildings or public places. It is a beautiful way to promote equality, the sense of duty and active citizenship.

After this time of learning and acquaintance with my colleagues and friends, after discovering the beautiful Rwandan landscapes like the Akagira Parc, the Kiuvu Lake or the Museum of Liberation, I would finally discover my village, where I would serve. On the road going to my site, the face of Rwanda transformed right in front of my amazed eyes. The greenery is striking and the trees majestic; sometimes at the bend of a road it seems that the mountains coexist and kiss with clouds. It feels like entering in the sky; that is how high we were.

Arriving in my new home was not easy; sometimes I had to go through mountain paths in the Ngororero District, Bwira Sector. However, I had hardly put down my luggage when I went out to check the view. It is here that I understood why Rwanda is called the land of one thousand hills.

There is not a centimeter where you can look without seeing an infinite mountain alignment. The mountains give the impression of jostling one another, each wanting to give a spectacle of raw beauty of the wilderness. After a week, a month, months, I always looked with such enthusiasm and astonishment at this panoramic vision of mountains that touch clouds, mixed with natural greenery such as in an art painting.

Everybody knows Rwanda as the country of one thousand hills, but for me it is also the country of one thousand possibilities, the country of one thousand dreams. It is the country where you can learn that the past is not a fatality, where patriotism and citizenship are not just words on paper, the country where I really came to believe that Africa is the future.

Speaking Arabic and wearing modern clothing in the front of 34 berber men isn’t reallythe best way to leave a good first impression!

As a CorpsAfrica Volunteer, I was appointed to manage a project that was already started ina Berber commune in the southeastern verse of the Atlas High-Mountains. I was superexcited and everything was looking promising. Moreover, I weirdly believed that everythingwould go 100% smoothly. It turns out I was 100% wrong.

Insanely happy and excited, I reached my host village for the first time with CorpsAfrica staffmembers. The welcoming from the locals was pretty much warm, since they already knewabout our arrival and purpose there. Everything was as expected and maybe evenmore. I found a beautiful small place to stay, warm in the cold weather and next to alovely family that has never left us wanting for anything. So I started my mission right away after settling down.

After spending two weeks in the village, and with great help from the youth of Douar, weplanned for a meeting with the local community in order to provide them with some updatesabout the project and at the same time to ask, hear and integrate with them.I didn’t realize that I was being reckless until the moment I found myself in front of 34men talking in a language that only 3 or 4 of them understand. Most of the men only spoke berber and sacrificed their work in the fields to come and listen to me. I actually forgot that this is a berber village, and it was really a weird thing to forget that in the middle of excitement. But in that day I deeply knew that I’ve underestimated the whole mission from the beginning, especially when I saw some of the men leaving the meeting room.

In the middle of that difficult situation, someone appeared to me as a hero. A friendfrom the village that can speak both Arabic and Berber languages came and played theintermediary role between us. He did just save me, but perhaps the whole project.

Maybe you really have the will and the passion to make an impact, but you might bemaking things harder without good planning and taking into account everysmall detail. As the Greek Philosopher Seneca once said, “Preparation is everything."

It is definitely true that the beauty of this place does not reflect the beauty of life here. This is one of the contradictions I always have trouble comprehending. When I first stepped foot here, I kept expressing my admiration of the nature, thinking they are lucky to wake up every morning with the view of those silver mountains. But girls keep staring at me, and always their reaction was that ‘’ there is nothing special about this place—life here does not give us time to contemplate the beauty you are talking about.” At first, I thought they are just bored and want to discover new places, and that is why they were saying that. As time went on, I started seeing things more clearly. As the days faded away, I realized that they were right. However, this does not mean the place is bad or something of the sort, but living there forever is not as amazing as one may conceive from their first visit. It is wonderful to spend days, or even a few months here. It is so inspiring, the views are fantastic, and the nature is stunning. But permanent living is very hard and almost unbearable. People have very few things to do and limited choices for making a living. This fact makes life here so boring and very repetitive. At the same time, every single person in my community has to work—even children. They have to help around after school, either through herding sheep or cleaning barns. Children in my Douar are different from the children that we see in the cities, and they same wise beyond their years.

Women in my community and the surrounding communities are a special case. I spent months here, but I still cannot understand how their small bodies could bear that every day hard work and burdens they are always carrying on their backs. Whenever I meet a woman with her child on her back and a burden of grass on her shoulder, I say in astonishment “that is too much, you are not made of iron! Have mercy on your bodies.” They say, ‘’that is our life and what we are doing is an obligation not a choice.” As time passed, I understood that they are condemned to this way of life. The sad fact that is hurting me the most is that even though they are struggling beside their husbands, their efforts are not appreciated; some of them could die simply because of carelessness and indifference. However, these women chase every simple opportuntiy to get themselves out of that daily monotonous routine. Whenever they are together, you find them singing and dancing.

I love their patience, their steadfastness and their consistency. They made me realize that life is not easy at all. This is always compelling me to stand up and walk even if I am tired. Much love and appreciation to those fighting women.

Written by CorpsAfrica/Maroc Volunteer Saâdia Dinia​​Since day one, I have been mesmerized by auntie Roukia’s refinement of movement and simple elegance. The way she moves trough her tedious daily chores with effortless gracefulness always harbors within me a feeling of solemn wonder. Whether she is sweeping the dusty floor, cooking a delicious Amazigh Tagine, or about to go feed the family’s cow, auntie Roukia moves and bends her body so delicately. Almost in a balletic style. I mostly love it when she readies herself to cut grass in the nearby fields. She puts on her plastic boots, wraps up a rag around her waist, and wears a straw hat. She then places her hand scythe on her right shoulder, and carries along a plastic bag, and a rope that she will later use to hold the heavy load of grass on her steel back. Nothing about aunty Roukia’s attire is fancy, and yet. Everything about her liberates an aura of mysterious majesty. I often secretly praise myself for having the classiest host mom in the village!

Auntie Roukia and I do not speak the same language. When she tries to tell me something in Arabic, she almost always mixes up Amazigh and Arabic words, and ends up uttering weird sentences. Everyone then laughs joyfully. For my part, I too try to speak with her, but the little Amazigh I have been learning with difficulty for the past few months is not very helpful. I wish that one day, after learning a bit more of Amazigh, I can engage her in long conversations, and know more of the super woman she undoubtedly is.

It is tradition in my community to eat vegetables first in a Tagine, and leave meat for the end. When she distributes the meat, auntie Roukia always insists on giving me a bigger portion. Several times during our family meals, I noticed that she would stop eating first; then, when everyone else would stop eating too, if there remains a leftover, she would eat it. The way I have come to understand this habit of hers is that she seems to be favoring her family members’ satiation over hers. It reminds me of my own mother, and probably most mothers worldwide. Every time, as she finishes the uneaten food with a profound humility and grace, I watch her out of the corner of my eyes. It makes me reflect with utmost reverence and respect about the divine virtues of motherhood. And also makes me yearn with impatience to become myself a loving mother one day soon.

As to when I have to wake up early in the morning to catch the only available transit to the city, auntie Roukia always wakes up earlier than everyone else in order to prepare a hot fresh breakfast specially for me. During the harsh winter daybreaks, as I would penetrate the kitchen with my bag pack, she would immediately seat me down on the kitchen’s divan, cover me with a blanket, and ask me to remain seated until the breakfast is ready. When it is time that I come back to my village, auntie Roukia always welcomes me with the most heartwarming of hugs!

Auntie Roukia does not like to be photographed, but I have made it a promise not to leave my village without a photograph with her and my entire host family. A photograph that I will duly frame and place in my room when it is time to go back home. Go back after having secured another family. Another home. How rich I have become!

I will never forget you auntie Roukia. Mommy Roukia. You have touched my heart and soul. I love you. Always.

Hello dear readers and my fellows! I hope my blog finds you very well . First of all, I’m going to introduce myself to you. I’m Fatima Zahra, I’m from Marrakech but Casablanca is my hometown. I received my BA in English studies, majoring in linguistics in 2018 from Kaddi Aayad University.​My experience as a Volunteer with CorpsAfrica for 2018-2019 giving me the opportunity to discover and improve my personality. I am becoming more confident and better at public speaking. Also, I experienced how to be patient under the challenging conditions, without some basics needs, in a remote village. Moreover, the interaction with the people of the village helps me a lot to be close to their way of living, despite their different culture, accent, food, way of dress.

The ability to face difficulties in a remote village came out of the belief in the idea that volunteering is a lifestyle and we have to invest our time and energy in something that we know will have a positive impact on others.

Finally, CorpsAfrica brings hope to marginalized people, encouraging them to persevere for positive change and invest their potential in their community.